Death is but the Next Greatest Adventure
by Infinite
Summary: Albus Dumbledore visits Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel at the end of PS/SS. What makes them decide to destroy the Stone?


  
**Author's Note:** I was just rereading the first book, and I wondered what Nicolas Flamel was like... well, this is what I came up with. Have fun reading!   
**Disclaimer:** I sure may wish I had JKR's writing talents, but I'm not her, and I don't. So don't sue me. I'm just playing with her characters; I don't claim to own them. :-)   


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_"To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." - Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, p. 297, American edition_   
  
    "Nicolas! Nicolas!" Perenelle called through the house to her husband, but received no response. "Nicolas!"   
    She stopped short as she entered her husband's study. He sat peacefully in his rather large leather chair, and his eyes were shut. The faint sound of snoring escaped him, and Perenelle couldn't help but smile. He deserved his rest; he was, after all, nearly six hundred and sixty-seven years old. But after a moment, she took a few steps forward and shook him gently. Albus wanted to talk to him, and Albus Dumbledore wasn't a man to keep waiting, even if one was over five hundred and seventy-five years older than he.   
    "Nicolas?" Perenelle gave him a gentle shake, then said his name again. "Nicolas?"   
    Her husband woke up almost immediately; ever since they'd started taking the Elixir, they'd both been light sleepers. "Yes, love?" He rubbed his eyes for a moment before settling his glasses upon his nose. "What is it?"   
    "Albus is here, Nicolas. He wants to talk to you. Actually, I think he wants to talk to us. Both of us. Anyway, he's waiting in the parlor."   
    Nicolas stood and stretched his arms out in front of him. "Well then, Perenelle, I think we'd better go talk to him, don't you think?" She smiled and followed him out of the study.   
    Dumbledore sat in the parlor, rolling a set of multi-colored stones around in his hand. He looked old and tired in his grey, nondescript robes, but when he heard the Flamels enter the room, he looked up and they saw that his eyes held the same merry twinkle that they usually did. Dumbledore smiled. "Fascinating things, these are," he said, indicating the colourful stones in his hand. "Alchemy may be an outdated art, but some of it shouldn't be forgotten. Like these. Even if they didn't harness the elements like they were meant to, they really are quite beautiful." He gently set the stones down on the dark, polished wood of the table, next to his hat, and stood up. "It's wonderful to see you again, Nicolas. And you too, of course, Perenelle."   
    "But of course, Albus." Perenelle smiled and inclined her head slightly. "Perhaps you'd like to have some tea?"   
    "Thank you, Perenelle, that would be wonderful. Earl Grey, if you have it, with a little milk." He smiled his serene smile at her and turned to his old friend. "The years have treated you well, Nicolas, though I must say, it's been far too long since I've seen you."   
    "That it has, Albus. That it has. Oh, do come and sit down." He pulled out a chair for Dumbledore and then one for himself on the opposite side of the table. "So, Albus, to what do we owe the honor of your presence today?"   
    The twinkle in Dumbledore's eye dimmed. "I'm afraid that I have some rather grave business to discuss with you."   
    "Really? What is it, Albus?"   
    Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "I'm afraid it involves your wife, too, and I'd rather I only have to explain it once. Let's wait until she comes back with the - ah, thank you Perenelle. We were just waiting for you." He took a sip of his tea as he waited for Flamel's wife to take her seat before beginning to speak.   
    "I've come to talk to you about the Stone. Apparently, it wasn't as safe at Hogwarts as we had hoped. Yesterday, it was nearly stolen." He paused at the alarmed look on Perenelle's face, but she motioned him to go on. "Lord Voldemort has apparently roamed the country as a sort of a wraith since his downfall eleven years ago, possessing various creatures and persons as he went. It seems he has, in fact, been possessing one of the Hogwarts teachers since last summer. This teacher, Professor Quirrell, attempted to steal the stone last night."   
    "But what happened?" Nicolas Flamel's throat sounded quite constricted as he asked.   
    "Well," continued Dumbledore, "He managed to break past all of the protections that were in place around the Stone - all of them, except the very last one. He could not get the stone out of the Mirror of Erised, for he wished to use it for wealth and power and immortality for his master, not for good. And as he stood there contemplating the Mirror, one of the students arrived.   
    "This student, only a first-year, had also managed to make his way past all of the enchantments protecting the Stone. He knew that someone was trying to retrieve the Stone for Voldemort, and because he wanted to save the Stone, not use it, he was able to retrieve it from the Mirror. Unfortunately, Voldemort noticed, and attacked the student."   
    Dumbledore heard a gasp from Perenelle. "But Albus, that's simply dreadful!" She shuddered. "What... what happened? Did the student... did he live?"   
    Dumbledore pressed the tips of his index fingers together and rested his chin upon his thumbs. "Yes. You see, the student had had the help of friends to make it past the enchantments, and he had sent them to summon me. Then, he managed to keep Voldemort - well, Professor Quirrell away from the stone until I arrived. He nearly died;" Dumbledore gave a wry smile, "and, I suppose, if it hadn't been that he was Harry Potter, he probably would have."   
    This time, both of the Flamels let out audible gasps. He heard a faint "Oh, dear..." from Perenelle's direction, and noticed that Nicolas was a sight paler than normal.   
    "And this," Dumbledore continued, "brings me to the crux of the matter. I'm afraid the Stone isn't safe at Hogwarts, and if we continue to keep it there, more students' lives may be endangered. I can't, I'm afraid, recommend any place in which it would be safe. I would feel more comfortable... no, I would recommend -" here he hesitated before going on."I would recommend that the Stone be destroyed."   
    Nicolas Flamel was silent for a moment. "Yes, I see... oh dear, this is rather difficult, isn't it..." He threw a look at Perenelle, but she didn't respond; rather, she seemed to be intensely interested in a knot in the wood of the table.   
    "Of course," Dumbledore hastened to go on, "it should be your decision. The two of you ought to discuss it between yourselves and make a decision based upon what you feel is right."   
    "Yes... yes, I think we'd better." Flamel's voice became a little stronger as he spoke. "We'll talk about it, Albus. But it may take some time for us to decide."   
    "I understand," said Dumbledore. "I'll leave you now; I must be getting back to Hogwarts. And do take your time. I promise you that the Stone will be safe with me until you decide." He stood and picked up his hat and nodded to each of them in turn. "Goodbye, Nicolas. Goodbye Perenelle." And with that, he disapparated.   
    Nicolas and Perenelle both remained silent for several minutes after he left, before Perenelle raised her gaze from the table and looked directly into her husband's eyes. "Nicolas... there's nothing else we can do. Albus is right; it has to be destroyed." A few silent tears streaked the skin of her face.   
    Nicolas nodded, but his face had a defeated look as he replied. "I know, love, we can't let the Stone endanger anyone else. But still... I'd hate to see it destroyed. I suppose I'd have to destroy the research, as well. It just seems such a waste - destroying scientific accomplishments like that." He paused, then sat up a little straighter, and his voice held a decisive tone. "But it has to be done. I dare say we're old enough to die, don't you?"   
    Perenelle tried to smile, and she hiccoughed as tears fought with laughter. "Yes," she replied, "I suppose we are."   
    "Come here, love. Come sit with me." Nicolas used his wand to wordlessly transform his hard wooden chair into a soft armchair, and Perenelle came to sit beside him. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin gently on the top of her head, and they simply sat in silence.   
    Neither of them knew how long they sat there, holding each other, but as day's last light began to fade, Nicolas remembered what he needed to do. He carefully slid his arms out from behind his now-sleeping wife and reached for his wand. "Accio quill and parchment," he whispered, in a voice so low it almost couldn't be heard. When his writing things reached his hands, he began a short note to Dumbledore:   
  
Dear Albus,   
    You've always said that to the well-organized mind, death is but the next greatest adventure; Perenelle and I talked for a while this afternoon, and we decided that this is an adventure that we are ready to embark upon. We want you to destroy the Stone, immediately. Too many people are endangered by it's continued existence, and we have enough of the Elixir set aside that we will have time to make sure everything is how it should be before we cease to walk this earth. And thank you, Albus, for all you have done for us this past year.   
Your faithful friend,   
Nicolas Flamel   
  
    Nicolas signed his name and looked at the paper for a long moment before sighing and standing up. Though he made an effort not to jar his wife out of sleep as he moved, he was unsuccessful, and he felt her hand give a gentle tug on her robe.   
    "Is that for Albus?" she asked, indicating the parchment with her eyes. When he nodded, she took it from him and spent a moment reading the note. Then she nodded in approval. "That's... it's just how it should be, I think."   
    "Well then, let's owl it off to him immediately. Now... where can that owl have disappeared to?" He glanced around the room before his eyes came back to rest on his wife. He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up along five-hundred-year-old lines. "Come on then, Perenelle, let's see if you can still do it."   
    Perenelle closed her eyes tried to envision their owl, Raven. At first, all she saw was the bird's face, but soon she began to see the background. She saw a faded quilt and a box of books... "She's in the attic."   
    "Let's see." They made their way to the attic as silently as possible, and sure enough, the ancient owl was exactly where Perenelle had envisioned her. "Well, I'll be buggered. You can still do it!" Nicolas laughed as he tied his note to Dumbledore onto Raven's leg.   
    Nicolas put his arm around Perenelle's waist, and they both watched in silence as the bird took off into the night sky. Then he turned to his wife and took both of her hands in his. "I'm tired, Perenelle. Let's go sleep."   
    "Yes," she said, as they turned toward the stairs. "We deserve a rest." 


End file.
